Fire and Ashes
by Lady Eagle
Summary: Sometimes, life throws unexpected obstacles in your way. But help can come from the most unexpected of sources. Oneshot


**Disclaimer:** I own nothing identifiable such as characters or locations. I am merely experimenting with CC's amazing world.

Hey guys! Well I've finally done it. I've finally conquered my fear and actually published something on this site. All constructive criticism is welcome and I hope you enjoy!

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><p>Twisting her hair up into a messy bun but leaving a few strands out to frame her face, Clary stared at the product of the past hours work. Smiling in satisfaction, she applied her finishing touch of lipgloss and grabbed her purse. Walking towards the door, she saw it open and threw herself into the arms of her husband standing in the doorway. Tall, and absurdly handsome with luxurious dark locks and deep blue eyes, the man wrapped his arms around her and kissed her.<p>

When they finally came up for air, he smiled at her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

"Hey babe!"

"Seb!" Stretching onto her tippy-toes, Clary entangled her hands in his dark hair and pulled him in for another kiss. Then she paused and pulled back.

"Have you been smoking again?"

Immediately, Seb stiffened and took a step away from her. Running a hand through his hair, he sighed in frustrated.

"No. You know I wouldn't do that to you babe. I promised I'd give it up cause I know how much you hate it."

Arching an eyebrow, Clary peered at him suspiciously, "I'm positive I smelled it on you."

"Clary. I get that your dad died from lung cancer, but I've told you. I QUIT!"

Relenting and unable to doubt the sincerity in his eyes, Clary stepped forward and hugged him, resting her head on his chest. "I know Seb. I'm sorry for doubting you!"

Feeling her phone vibrate in her pocket, she checked her messages. Rolling her eyes, she muttered, "I've gotta go. Isabelle's harassing me. I'm supposed to be at her place now. I'll see you later, 'kay?"

Smiling, Seb uttered a, "Sure babe!" and headed off to the billiard room.

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><p>Still feeling short despite the ridiculously long heels her husband had bought her (and that Isabelle had insisted she wear), Clary craned her head in an attempt to find her friend amongst the mass of mingled bodies dancing to some sort of techno beat that apparently passed for music.<p>

Scanning the crowd, her eyes came to rest on a single figure. A shocked gasp escaped her as her heart began to thud painfully against her chest like a hummingbird entrapped within a gilded cage. It couldn't be him. He wouldn't do that to her. She squeezed her eyes shut. _Please don't let it be him. Please don't let it be him. _Over and over she chanted the words in her head like a mantra. Eventually, she forced herself to open her eyes again and immediately wished she hadn't. Where her husband had been merely kissing a blonde in a black lyrca dress, he now seemed to be feeling her up. He was obviously too preoccupied to even notice her, but there was no denying that head of dark hair or the clothes he was wearing. She'd bought him that top.

Feeling her life crashing down around her, Clary fled with tears pricking at her eyes, feeling like a coward but abhorring a public scene. Bursting through the nearest exit, she found herself in some sort of alleyway, obviously at the back of the club.

"Lying, cheating, bastard!" Breathing heavily, she took off her shoes and lobbed them as hard as she could against the nearest wall, watching them hit it with a satisfying thud. Exhausted from that small burst of aggression, she sank to the ground and let her tears overwhelm her.

"You should break up with him." A voice intruded upon her cathartic moment.

"What?" Clary looked up, swiftly wiping her eyes in an attempt to remove the obvious traces of her crying jag. Feeling the anger return, her eyes flashed and she opened her mouth to give this interloper a piece of her mind before slamming it shut when she got a good look at him. She stopped dead at the sight of the gorgeous blonde with smouldering golden eyes standing before her.

"Your boyfriend. The asshat making out with the blonde in black. He obviously doesn't deserve you!"

"How on earth would you know anything about my 'boyfriend' and I?" Determined not to show weakness in front of another man, Clary was resorting to anger to hide her hurt and humiliation.

A cocky grin adorning his face, he simply said, "I'm just awesome like that."

She snapped, "I don't care how full of it you are. The only thing I care about is you avoiding my question. How do you know anything about me?"

"That's for me to know and you to…"

Before he'd even finished that sentence, Clary had sprung to her feet. Emotionally drained and goaded beyond belief, she raised her hand and slapped him. However, her hand never made contact with him. Somehow, despite Clary's speed, he'd managed to sway out of the way of her slap. Slightly embarrassed at her behaviour, she hadn't slapped anyone in years; she nervously looked at his face.

Shockingly, his face displayed that cocky smirk again, rather than the look of fury she was expecting.

"Feel better?"

Mustering a weak laugh she shook her head, "Not really."

Nodding towards the door, he said, "Come on, you look like you could do with a drink."

Five minutes later, Clary found herself back in the club with a shot of vodka in front of her. The man (she still didn't know his name) had declined one. She downed it and they sat in silence for a while, each obviously caught up in their own thoughts. Feeling the slight buzz of alcohol permeating her body (she was a bit of a lightweight), Clary was the one to break the silence first. "It's more complicated than me just dumping him. He's my husband."

The man raised an eyebrow but didn't utter a word. Thankful, because she didn't think she would have been able to continue if he had said, "I'm sorry" or something banal and trite like that, Clary forced herself to purge herself of the arguments running through her head.

"He's my husband. I should forgive him. I mean, we all make mistakes, right? And.. he loves me. He shown me time and time again by being there for me all my life. He was there when my dad died, my mum remarried and I was picked on in school. We'd begun to build our dream house 3 months ago and just last night we had discussed maybe beginning a family. What did I do wrong? What did I do that made him?" Turning her green eyes towards him, Clary stared at him pleadingly as if he could solve her internal dilemma.

Drawing in a deep breath the guy began to speak, "Look. I'm not Dr. Phil or any other type of stupid shrink but I'll say this: you are an idiot if you return to him! If he can't treat you right, he doesn't deserve you. I get that you're obviously scared of facing the world alone but you're strong and you'll get through it."

Clary stared at the wooden bench-top as she thought over what he said. Coming to a decision, she turned back round to thank him but he'd vanished. Confused, she turned to the bartender, "Excuse me? Could you tell me where the blonde man I was speaking to went."

The barman turned around, "Honey there was no blond man, you've been sitting there talking to no-one for the last half hour."

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><p>Returning home, Sebastian Verlac silently glided his Audi Q7 into the driveway. Turning off the headlights, he sat there for a few moments in the darkness before reaching into the console of his car. His hand fumbled around in the dark until his hand encountered a small, circular object that was cool to the touch. He slid it onto the fourth finger of his left hand and exited the car. Slightly intoxicated, he stumbled to the bottom of the stairs and stopped. He stared and the thought entered his mind that he really should have stopped at the 8th shot. Convinced this was an alcohol fuelled delusion, he opened and closed his eyes. But no matter how many times he did it, the scene in front of him was still there…<p>

Every article of clothing that he had ever owned was strewn across the paved steps leading up to his house. He smiled grimly as he realised that Clary hadn't missed a thing, even throwing out his expensive Armani suits. The first step contained all his shoes, paired up together; the second displayed all his business suits whilst the third held his casual clothes and sports gear. He continued up the stairs in a daze, stopping only when he reached the front door. The final step was completely bare, bar one item.

A large box of his favourite cigarettes accompanied by a white piece of paper adorned the doormat that Clary had picked out for their house. Unconsciously, his hands started to tremble as he began to unfold what was obviously a note. It took a while for the words to penetrate his alcohol dazed brain but he was eventually able to make sense of Clary's scrawl. As the full import of his actions hit him like a freight train, the note fluttered to the ground: the words echoing throughout his head.

_Seb. _

_I found your empty box of cigarettes in the billiard room so I brought you a new box. Smoke till your heart's content babe. _

_Lots of love, _

_Clary_

_P. S. I've filed for a divorce!_


End file.
